80's Night Visitor Redone
by StarzOfDraco
Summary: A collection of ficlets based on the prompt - "Someone other than Leo knocks on Veronica's window."    Chp 1: Lamb, Chp 2: Logan, Chp 3: Wallace
1. Sheriff Don Lamb

_A/N: I know this has been done before, hey, why not another one. Each chapter will be a short little scene, probably barely 1000 words each if not shorter and for now, no ships that wasn't current during the 'Ruskie Business' episode will be done. Thanks for stopping by!_

_

* * *

-knock-knock-knock-_

Veronica nonchalantly wiped away the tears that were lining her cheeks and looked up. When she saw the baton, the gun, and the familiar sight of brown polyester she smiled. It was 80's night after all; Leo could easily say he was dressed as Erik Estrada. Of course, she didn't quite know how she felt about being seen with a Ponch impersonator.

Stepping out of the LeBaron, a frown instantly formed as her brows pulled together in…disappointment? Confusion? Misplaced joy?

"Deputy." Veronica breathed through pursed lips. One thing she could thank Meg for were those 'make me three inches taller death shoes.' The man before her still towered, but the shoes leveled the playing field a bit better. "Shouldn't you be out there doing your job?" She crossed her arms and squinted as though she was a mother who just caught her son in his room during school hours. "Oh wait, that's right. I forgot. My father does your job for you."

The sheriff arched an agitated brow and pulled on his belt, adjusting his holster. Smacking his gum, Lamb's eyes scanned Veronica's not so modest form, up, down, then up again. Caught within the view, his lower lip suddenly became too heavy to keep closed as his gum teetered on the edge of his mouth.

"Deputy!" Veronica snapped her fingers in Lamb's face, pulling him out of his highly inappropriate - completely out of his control - so not what he was thinking thoughts. "If you keep looking at me like that, I'm gonna have to start charging you."

Returning his mind...among other things...to order, Lamb squared his shoulders as his thumbs found a place in his belt loops. With a smug lopsided grin, he motioned with his head towards his cop car. "You're coming with me." His voice was gruff and forceful. When it came to being serious with Veronica, he knew he had to lather it on.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Veronica painted on her own smug smirk. "You know Deputy, when a man goes all gorilla on a girl, he's supposed to throw her over his shoulder and carry her. Did you not pass your caveman exam?"

Lamb turned around sharply and snapped. "Now, Mars!"

"Coming Deputy." She sang out as she skipped after the sheriff.

* * *

Sitting across from Lamb in his office, Veronica sighed as her array of nerves were slowly depleting. Between the gum smacking, the uncomfortable chair, the binding clothes, and the non reason of her even being there, Veronica's every last peeve was being irked. Worst of all was the company.

Sheriff Don Lamb. That evil evil man. Veronica's eyes narrowed and her mouth twitched as she thought about a house falling on the Sheriff. Then she had to stifle a laugh when she thought about Lamb wearing ruby red slippers with a group of munchkins joyously dancing around him as he laid crushed. Yeah, that was a pleasant image.

When Lamb shot her a curious look, Veronica rolled her eyes and respired. "Now will you tell me why I'm here?"

Lamb adjusted in his chair, relaxing back and clasping his hands in front of him. "Why are you dressed like a whore?" It was meant more as an insult than a question.

"Why are you dressed like a cop?" Of course, she didn't miss a beat as she leaned back and mimicked his position.

His eye twitched as he let out a harsh exhale through his nostrils. Their relationship was too broken; too strain to resemble anything that could be considered normal so Don moved on to doing what he did best (worst if you asked for Veronica's opinion). His job. "Tell me what you know about Yellana Sukarenko"

Veronica scrunched her face in a dumbfounded expression. "This is why you drag me here. Really?"

"You're a part of it Mars and you're the one who almost got an innocent man killed. So start talking."

She clucked her tongue and adopted a sarcastic tone. "And here I thought you just missed me." Smiling flirtatiously, she batted her eyes for emphasis.

A knock came to the door then as one of the actual deputies of the department poked his head in. "Uh, Lamb?" Leo started to say, but was distracted when he noticed Veronica sitting there all dolled up. "Hey Ver-ronica. What-what are you doing here?" His gaze fell directly on her, not moving from where she sat.

"Little Lamb here likes to round up the whole Mars clan from time to time. That way it's easier for us to do his job." Gasping, Veronica covered her mouth with a hand and glanced sidelong at the sheriff. "Oops! Was that supposed to be a secret?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Leo chuckled softly, eyes still firmly attached to the tiny blond.

"Did you want something?" Lamb abhorrently smacked his gum.

"Oh yeah, Keith's waiting for you in room one."

"Fine, I'll be there…" Lamb's eyes fixated on Veronica. "…after you and I are done here."

"I'll let him know." Leo was about to leave, but his feet, or more accurately his heart, stalled him. "Hey, I'll wait for you out here. Maybe we can grab something to eat?"

Biting her lower lip, she repressed the glowing smile she wanted to offer and nodded.

Don didn't miss the shy hidden smiles that the two shared. He didn't know why, but he was suddenly overcome with an undeniable urge to punch the deputy right square in the jaw. "Deputy." Lamb waved Leo off coarsely. "Leave. Now."

He wasn't sure how the night would end, but he knew that Leo would be working overtime and Veronica would not be leaving until he was satisfied. And when it came to Veronica? They were in for a long night.

* * *

_A/N: So far I have Wallace, maybe Mac, Weevil, Keith, and of course Logan (but he'll probably be last, 'cause I heart Jason Dohring =)) planned. Any ideas for other possible encounters? Also if you do wanna see more, who would you like to see next?_

_As always, thanks for reading! _

_LV update: I will be working on Leaving Neptune again soon, I had to take a break because Piz's refusal to speak to me as a character frustrated me.  
_


	2. Logan Echolls

_A/N_: So I gave in to all the PMs and went with Logan for this chapter. I also pushed passed my 1000 word limit by kinda a lot. Logan made me do it. =) Next will probably be Dick, Weevil or Keith. Haven't decided yet. As always, thanks for reading!...and reviewing, favoring, or alerting!

* * *

She wasn't mad. She wasn't even all that…jealous? No, definitely not jealous. Lonely maybe, but not jealous. Slamming her car door, Veronica slumped against the steering wheel. She swore she could hear it mocking her as sniffles scattered the surrounding air.

_J Geils was right. Love stinks. You can dress it up with sequins and shoulder pads but one way or another you're just gonna end up alone at the spring dance strapped into uncomfortable underwear._

_-THUD-_

Chocking on a sob, Veronica startled at the sudden sound and abrupt shake of the vehicle. Quickly, she wiped away the mascara streaked tears that stained her features and rolled her eyes. She rarely ever _wanted _to put up with whatever ridiculous 09'er style torment her so called peers concocted, yet she always did. Tonight was a whole other story. There was no way she was going to deal. Not tonight. Damn Meg for not letting her bring a bag large enough for her taser. Two seconds and whoever dared to attack her car would be disposed of and she would be able to drive home and bury her head in a beautiful gallon tub of ice cream.

Turning her sight towards the sound, she shook her head. Someone wearing a white dress shirt was draped against her car. The person's hand continuously dragged itself down the driver side window. Now she wasn't just lonely. She was annoyed.

"I don't know who you are…" Using as much force as she could muster, Veronica violently pushed her door open. "…but I've learned that heels hurt just about everyone. Even those who aren't wearing th-."

Her shiver inducing voice dissipated when the opening of her door caused the blatant intruder to tumble backwards, falling on their back and revealing a well known face. "Logan?" She rushed out of her car, dropping to her knees beside her accidental victim. "God Logan, what are you doing?"

"No! Get a-get a way fr-from…" Logan pulled away from her as he scowled beneath his shades before tipping his head back and falling into a fit of uncontrolled laughter.

Veronica brought a hand to her nose in an attempt to block the waves of stench rolling off his breaths. "You're drunk Logan. You need to get up." Risking the possibility of his weight crushing her tiny frame, she slung his arm around her neck and tried desolately to get him to a standing position. "Come on Logan, you gotta help me here."

Plastering on a sloppy smirk, he leaned awkwardly into her. "What's the magic word?"

"Word? How about phrase." Her voice became strained as she used the car to steady herself and the vodka filled boy with her. "Logan gets his drunk self up and Veronica doesn't run him over with her car."

Logan hiccuped in response, giggling as he stumbled backwards into the vehicle. "You used to be fun." He mumbled incoherently to himself.

Arching a disappointed, but unsurprised, brow, Veronica folded her arms across her chest and took in a judgmental stare at him. A part of her found his display appalling and pathetic, but a more prominent part of her took pity on him. When it came to suffering from a bad day, he had her beat for sure. "Logan." She sighed. "You're drunk."

"Wow!" With a flippant gesture, Logan staggered as he attempted to keep up with the constantly spinning world. "Nothing gets past you Nancy Drew!" His unintended rhyming skills revved up another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

"Come on." She spoke gently as she reached out and placed a friendly hand on his arm. "We should get you home."

"No!" He snapped back before spinning around and around in some sort of drunken dance. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no." The tone and volume of his voice changed with every 'no' making it sound more like a song than anything else.

"Logan." Veronica pleaded as she tried to get a grip on him.

Adopting a serious tone, Logan stopped his spinning and looked directly at her. In the briefest of moments, it was as though the drunken Logan disappeared. "Ronnie please. She's-she…she's go-gone." His dark shades did well to hide the tears that were surely filling his eyes as he struggled to get his words out.

She relented easily, her heart breaking just a little. "Alright, I won't take you home, but we should take you somewhere." She diverted her gaze from his pain ridden expression as she thought about where exactly she could take him. Anyone who would take him in was enjoying themselves at that damn couple-o-rama fest going on in the gym. Hotel maybe? Uh, that sounded bad even before she thought of it.

"Fine." Interrupting her thoughts, Logan burped, a hearty smelly one at that. "But nowhere with bridges. Or lakes. Or mothers."

The corner of her lips pulled downwards in an empathetic frown. She hastily washed away any dejection when she met Logan's eyes through his shades. Pity wouldn't go over well with him. "Okay, but if we're doing this. I have to set some boundaries." She held out a stern finger as Logan muttered a soft 'whatever.' "One, no puking in the car."

"What? Does the value of the rust bucket go down?" He leaned his forehead against the roof of the LeBaron as his hand returned to dragging itself along the windows.

Veronica held a hand up, making her lack of patience apparent. "Two, no more drinking anything that runs on tap unless it's from a kitchen sink. Three…" She smirked as her eyes scanned Logan's choice, or lack of choice, of wardrobe. "…unless you have a pair of pants hidden somewhere, you'll be sitting on a towel while in my car. You got it?"

"Yeah-yeah." Logan wobbled his way around the car, flinging himself into the passenger side seat. "You're so bossy." He held back a gag as he slurred his words.

Veronica sighed, shaking her head before climbing in herself.

_No bridges? No lakes? No mothers? Well, there's only one place I can think of that fits within those guidelines and as much as I would prefer not to have a drunk and mourning teenage boy inhabit the same apartment as the previous Balboa county sheriff, it will have to do._

Sometime during the car ride, Logan decided that Veronica's shoulder made for the perfect pillow. She on the other hand didn't appreciate it and shrugged him off. His head swayed from side to side before it returned to the spot he had claimed for himself, ignoring the fact that the shoulder he acquired belonged to her.

"Logan…" She tried to shrug him off again only to have him nuzzle closer.

"Ronnie…please." His broken voiced plea was all that was needed to melt away the uncomfortable feeling that tainted the air and once again she easily relented.

Minutes later, just as she was pulling into a parking space, Veronica felt something tickling her arm. Looking down, she noticed the culprit. A thin stream of drool was trailing from his open mouth. Though justifiably disgusted, Veronica couldn't help, but smile. "Logan." She shook him slightly. "Let's get you inside."

Logan shot up, which of course was the worst thing he could do for the world insisted on spinning more aggressively. "Wha-what?" Noticing the drool, he wiped at his mouth and chin. "Oh, yeah. Okay."

With only a handful of stumbles and progressively heightening aches from supporting most of his weight, Veronica managed to get Logan from the car into her apartment.

"Veronica?" Logan's eyes met hers as she fumbled with kicking the door closed while holding on to him. "Thanks." Releasing himself from her grasp, he fell against the kitchen counter as his eyes firmly held onto her gaze. "You know," he shrugged "for not leaving me and…stuff."

In a toothless, yet heartfelt smile, Veronica simply nodded. Swallowing hard, she pushed back the emotions that were stirring within her. In the dim lit apartment and through the haze of alcohol surrounding him, Veronica saw a glimmer of the old Logan she once knew. "You want me to, uh…" Her expression twisted unpleasantly. "I don't know. Get you something to eat? Aspirin maybe?"

He didn't say anything. He just reached out and squeezed her upper arm lightly before trudging his way down the hall towards the bathroom.

Veronica released a deep breath as she watched him go in all his 'Risky Business' glory. "I cannot escape Tom Cruise." She shook her head and sighed. Thinking about how odd her night ended, even considering how odd her entire day had been, she headed towards her room. A hot shower and wardrobe change was definitely a must.

* * *

It was a little after midnight when Keith finally made his way home. Carelessly tossing his keys and briefcase on the kitchen counter, he dragged himself towards the bed that had been calling out to him for the past few hours.

Upon opening his bedroom door and flicking the light on, his brows pulled together and his body jolted backwards in a response to shock. Scratching the top of his balding head, Keith approached the sleeping form that took over _his_ bed. "Logan?" When he realized who it was, answers were still no where to be found. "Logan?" He took to nudging the passed out boy to no avail.

Releasing an exasperated sigh, Keith stomped his way to his daughter's room.

_-knock-knock-knock-_

"Honey?" Keith spoke through the door as he heard the shuffling noises of Veronica climbing out of bed. "Why is there a pants-less teen in my bed?" His eyes were wide as he propped one hand against the door frame and let the other rest at his hip.

"Hi Dad." Veronica's voice was shaky as she opened her door.

Keith wiggled his finger at her and held his arm out, gesturing towards his bedroom. "Explain please."

Peeking into his room, Veronica snickered at the sight of Logan sprawled across her father's bed. "I don't know Dad. I think Logan may be trying to tell you something." She paused, smirking. "You didn't send him any unintentional signals did you? Cause I don't really think that's legal."

"Veronica…" He growled.

"Let him down easy, Pa." She patted him on the back and headed back to her own room. Stopping in her door frame she turned back to her distraught father. "Logan's been having a crappy week and needed a place to crash." Her eyes fluttered with sympathy. "I swear he'll be out by morning."

Narrowing his eyes, he nodded. "Fine, but when I wake up with a crick in my neck, I'm blaming you."

"I think I'll live." She smiled

"Yeah-yeah. Go to bed…you brat." He shook his head and threw his hands up as he headed for the couch. "I cannot escape Tom Cruise."


	3. Wallace Fennel

Duncan sucked.

The adorable young deputy whose name coincided with his astrological sign and who was responsible for the mock-up of the devil horned version of herself sucked.

Kenny Meyers, the boy from second grade who chucked her on the side in favor of the girl with freckles and a pudding cup sucked.

As far as Veronica was concerned, men (all men, including the ones hidden amongst all the forgotten recesses of the known universe) sucked.

It was like Junior High all over again, only this time she was crying in the safety of her car where an invisible barrier of 'back away if you know what's good for you' surrounded it instead of crying in the last stall of the girls restroom where everything seemed to be some sort of metaphor for her life.

As she sat hunched over in the driver seat of her LeBaron, only two thoughts inhabited Veronica's uncharacteristically (at least 'uncharacteristically' was what she would have people believe) fragile mind: Men sucked...and she was alone.

_-knock-knock-knock-_

Someone dressed in a white suit and black silk shirt, who obviously missed the memo about her not being allowed any visitors, tapped lightly against her window. Sighing, Veronica hastily wiped away the mascara damaging tears and rolled down her window. Her breath staggered within an inhale as she realized who it was. "Wallace?" She wanted to form some type of clever quip while her trade mark smirk held firmly in place, but the emotional drain taking place forced her brain to give up on the feat.

"Hi, uh, I'm looking for Veronica Mars, you seen her? Badass chick with a cream filling?" Rubbing the back of his neck, Wallace let loose a small laugh. "Cause I know you ain't her." Theatrically he began acting as though he was searching the car, the underside included. "This looks like Veronica's car, but the Veronica I knowwould _never _be caught girly-girling it up by sitting all alone in her parked car. This is just sad."

"Go away, Wallace." She bemoaned as she pounded her forehead against the steering wheel. "I'm attempting the highly dangerous feat of drowning myself in self pity. So far so good." She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Nope. Nah-uh. No way." Shaking his head, Wallace worked on dragging Veronica out of the vehicle. "Out! Get out!"

"Wallace, as much as I appreciate the bonds of friendship, I _will_ taser you."

"Ooh, my boots?" Wallace said, faking a shiver. "They're shaking!"

"They better be." She chuckled as a lopsided grin pulled on the corner of her lips. Once out of the crying trap of self wallowing that was better known as her LeBaron, Veronica took a moment to drink in Wallace's ensemble. Arching a brow, she brought a hand to her chin and scanned her friend's form. "What are you supposed to be? A more soulful version of John Travolta? You do realize that was the 70s right?"

"Now I know that didn't just come out of yo mouth." Holding his jacket open, Wallace spun around in a tight circle. "I'm MJ baby!" At Veronica's confused expression, a rush of air escaped his lips. "Oh come now, you gotta know Thriller?"

"Ohhh." Veronica drawled. "I didn't recognize you without the tiger."

Rolling his eyes, he shifted his weight from foot to foot and nodded towards the school's gym. "So, we doing this or what?"

"Hmm…" Tapping a finger against her chin, Veronica glanced upwards and pretended to mull it over. With a crinkle in her nose, she shook her head. "I don't think so."

Before Veronica could retreat back into the loneliness of her car, Wallace grabbed her by the elbow and began dragging her towards the sounds of Spandau Ballet. "Uh, that wasn't an option."

"Is there any way I could get you to…" Veronica smacked her lips. "…turn the other way? A bribe, perhaps? A jaunty tune? Ooh snicker doodles. You know you love them snicker doodles."

Wallace refused to pause even for a second. "Not going to work."

* * *

Side by side, Veronica and Wallace stood in the hallway outside of the auditorium. Wallace insisted on repeatedly nudging Veronica's side with his elbow in some backwards way of encouragement as she stood with arms crossed and an expression that could do a stubborn five year old justice.

"Do I have to?" Veronica groaned.

"Tonight you are partying like it's 1999…again!" Wallace drawled as he did some sort of smooth sliding dance move.

"I wasn't a fan of the year 1999, to be honest with you. Too much partying for my homebody blood."

"You-"

_-ring-ring-ring-_

"Aha!" Veronica exclaimed as she retrieved her phone from her purse. "Saved by the bell!" Smirking, she glanced side long at her friend. "Yeah, I went there. Hello?" She took a few steps back as her jaw constricted in a response to the sound of familiar creepy, no voice accompanying, breathing. "Hello? _Hello? _ Yeah, you know breath, this is getting really old. Hello?" Exhaling sharply through tightened lips, Veronica forcibly clamped her phone shut.

"What's up?" Wallace questioned.

"Someone keeps crank calling me." She stared at her phone with intent. "You think any of those crazy wacky scientists figured out a way to strangle someone via telephone, yet?"

"Why don't you star 69 them?"

"I do, but it just rings and rings."

"Lemme try." Grabbing Veronica's phone, Wallace took it upon himself to find the culprit behind her crank calls. To his surprise, someone picked up. "I hear you like breathing at people."

Without hesitation, Veronica yanked her phone out of Wallace's grasp. "Who is this? Why do you keep calling me?"

"_This is a pay phone. You must be talking about that blonde lady."_

"Blonde lady?" Two words and Veronica could no longer breathe, let alone think properly. "A-a pay phone? Where?" Her voice turned shaky as she attempted, unsuccessfully, to swallow back her emotions.

"_Sage Brush Cantina, Barstow"_

Closing her phone, she began blinking rapidly as her jaw became to heavy to keep shut. "I, uh, I got…I gotta go." She lifted her gaze to meet Wallace's worried one. "It's my mom."

Wallace's entire expression widened. "Your mom?"

"Yeah…" A small, yet glowing, smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "I think so. Sorry Wallace, I hate to bail but-" She turned on a heel and started running towards the parking lot.

"Hey! Wait up!" Wallace called out as he ran to catch up to the tiny 'manila whore Barbie.' "I call shot-gun."

Coming to an abrupt halt, Veronica slowly shook her head. "Wallace, no. You're not coming with me. I don't know what I'll find."

"Yeah, uh…" He squeezed her elbow lightly. "That wasn't an option." Winking, he gestured towards the exit. "C'mon."

Before Veronica could voice some sort of well thought out argument, Wallace had readily left her behind. As she watched her best friend jog his way down the hall and towards the unknown path of searching for her mother, Veronica couldn't help, but rethink her initial statements.

Men didn't suck, at least not all of them…and even if she was unable to see it earlier, she wasn't alone.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading!_


End file.
